constructed? Of timber of a suitable character there was a
superabundance upon the island; nay, even on the islet itself there was
more than sufficient for their purpose. But it would have to be cut,
sawn to the required dimensions, and hauled to the site of the building
before it could be made use of; and all this involved a very great deal
of labour, to say nothing of the fact that, when finished, the structure
could easily be destroyed by fire. Gaunt was strongly of opinion that
stone was the most suitable material for the purpose; but,
unfortunately, he was by no means certain that a quarry could be found
in a convenient position, and at a convenient distance for
transportation. If it could, he believed that shells in sufficient
quantities for the manufacture of lime could easily be collected on the
beach; and he had no doubt as to his ability to construct a kiln in
which to burn them. As the engineer warmed with his subject he made the
superiority of stone over wood so evident that it was finally decided he
and Henderson should devote the next day to a search for a suitable
quarry; whilst the skipper, with Manners and Nicholls for his
assistants, was to essay the task of knocking up a temporary but
somewhat more efficient shelter for the party than the tents would
afford, pending the completion of the house or "fort," as they seemed
inclined to style the proposed structure.
In accordance with this arrangement, immediately after breakfast next
morning the tents were struck and placed on board the raft, and the
ladies and children also embarked in her to proceed round to Fay Island
in charge of Captain Blyth and his two assistants; whilst Gaunt and
Henderson, armed with their repeating rifles and an axe each in their
belts, set out in company for the gap in the cliffs, their intention
being to proceed overland, and to separate at the head of the river,
each taking one of its banks with the object of ascertaining whether any
suitable quarry-site could be found in a situation convenient for the
shipment of stone on board the raft.
The quest occupied the two friends for the greater part of the day, they
arriving abreast the islet within half an hour of each other, and
reaching its friendly shores just in time to assist the working party
there in putting the finishing touches to quite a respectable
structure--half tent, half bower--for which the skipper had acted the
part of architect-in-chief. This structure had cost Captain Blyth a
vast amount of almost painful cogitation, and was the result of a little
fit of excusable, and perhaps natural pique, which had come over him on
finding how exceedingly well the two landsmen had managed without him.
From the moment of their being thrust out of the ship to that other
moment when he had rejoined them, they had scarcely been out of his
thoughts for an hour, and his commiseration for them--abandoned,
helpless, and deprived of the priceless advantage of his counsel and
experience--was dinned into the ears of young Manners to such a
wearisome extent that that officer, dutiful as he was, sometimes felt
inclined to wish he had been carried away like Ned by the mutineers,
instead of being accorded the privilege of the skipper's society. And
now, behold! all the anxiety and commiseration which had been felt for
them turned out to have been wasted, thrown away. The two quiet
undemonstrative men, whom the honest skipper, when ruefully meditating
upon their forlorn condition, had often likened to babes in arms, had
proved themselves to be fully equal to the situation in which they had
so unexpectedly found themselves, and had indeed managed so exceedingly
well that Captain Blyth found himself at a discount; and, whilst
heartily welcomed by them, was fully conscious that, save in the matter
of purely physical help and companionship, his presence was in no wise
an acquisition to them. Hence the little fit of pique, the outcome of
which had been a resolve to show these two resourceful men that he,
plain, unpretending seamen though he was, knew a thing or two besides
how to handle or navigate a ship, and that, even when it came to such a
matter as the knocking up of an impromptu house, he was not disposed to
give way to anybody. The house, or shelter rather, for it was too
rough-and-ready an affair to be worthy of the former appellation, was
really a very creditable production--roomy and weather-tight, though it
was doubtful whether it would prove capable of withstanding the
buffetting of a hurricane--and Captain Blyth was very justly proud of
it; and when Gaunt and Henderson (both of whom read the worthy man like
a book in large print) seemed to vie with each other as to who should
speak of it in the most complimentary and appreciative terms, the fit of
pique vanished like snow beneath a summer sun. The wound to the
skipper's _amour propre_ was completely healed, and he was once more
happy.
On comparing notes it was found that both the explorers had been
successful in their search, both had found stone of a more or less
suitable quality, some of it, indeed, being excellent; but the honours
of the day fell to the doctor's lot, he having discovered not only a
quarry-site in a most convenient situation, with stone of a quality far
superior to anything that Gaunt had met with, but also an outcrop of
coal! This discovery was of infinitely greater value to the party,
situated as they then were, than would have been the finding of a gold
mine, and Gaunt in particular--who perhaps realised more fully than any
of the others the exceeding importance of the discovery--was greatly
elated thereat.
Fully alive to the importance of developing these new resources without
delay, the five men started in the raft at daybreak next morning, well
provided with picks, shovels, crowbars, sledges, and such other
implements as it was thought might be useful, together with a keg of
powder from the magazine of the _Mermaid_, and made their way up stream,
Henderson acting as pilot. The quarry was first reached, being situated
only about half a mile above Fay Island, and a single glance sufficed to
satisfy Gaunt that here was stone not only of splendid quality, but
amply sufficient in quantity for every possible want of the party. The
quarry-face consisted of an almost perpendicular cliff of grey limestone
springing out of the soil at a distance of only some fifty feet from the
margin of the stream; it was about thirty-five feet in height, and fully
one hundred and fifty feet long, and of course of unknown depth, though
a very hasty examination of the top showed that it extended fully fifty
feet back from the face. Captain Blyth and Nicholls landed here,
provided with the powder and such tools as they needed, and instructed
by the engineer--who promised to rejoin them, as soon as he had
inspected the coal outcrop--began at once to lay bare the stone at the
top of the cliff. The rest of the party then proceeded in the raft to
the "mine," as they already began to term it, which they found about a
quarter of a mile further on. The outcrop proved, as Henderson had
asserted, to be a genuine coal, and of very fair quality, too, with a
prospect of its improving as it was worked down into; and, most
important and fortunate for the discoverers, it, like the stone, was
situate close to the river bank, near enough in fact to permit of its
being loaded direct on the deck of the raft by means of a long wooden
shoot. The doctor and young Manners willingly undertook to "get" such
coal as might be required--not a very large quantity in all
probability--and, stripping to the waist, at once set to work, whilst
Gaunt, who by this time had learned to manage the raft single-handed,
made his way back in that singular-looking craft to the quarry.
On rejoining the skipper and Nicholls, the engineer found that the two
men had worked to such excellent purpose that they had already laid bare
an area of some forty feet of stone, and disclosed a small fissure which
Gaunt thought would serve admirably to receive a blasting charge, which
he at once proceeded to prepare. This operation was soon accomplished,
the fuse--a chemical preparation "made up" by Henderson the night
before--was lighted, and the trio hastily retreated to a place of
safety. A minute later a faint _boom_ was heard, followed by a
tremendous crash and the rattle of falling fragments; and, hurrying back
to the spot, the workers found that, by a lucky accident, the charge had
been so placed as to dislodge and hurl down on to the bank beneath
upwards of twenty tons of stone. After this there was no further
difficulty, for the layers happened to so run that a very little labour
with the bars sufficed to send the stone down on to the bank ready for
loading; and when any especial difficulty was experienced, a small
quantity of powder always proved sufficient to overcome it. Such
capital progress, indeed, did they make, that in less than a month they
had not only quarried, but had actually transferred to the islet as much
stone as it was thought they would require. By that time a very fair
quantity of coal was also ready for removal; and when this important
task was accomplished, a kiln was built, and Gaunt himself undertook the
manufacture of lime, whilst Henderson and the skipper proceeded to erect
a shed for the storage of the same, Nicholls meanwhile essaying the task
of putting up a smithy on the site of the future ship-yard, whilst
Manners busied himself in getting out the ground for the foundations of
the fort.
But before they were ready to begin their building operations in
earnest, the long-expected change of weather--or rather the change of
the seasons--had come upon them, and their work was somewhat retarded by
the setting in of heavy rains, accompanied by terrific thunderstorms and
occasional heavy gales of wind. The course of the wind, too, had
changed; for whereas its prevalent direction hitherto, ever since their
landing upon the island, had been south-west, it now blew almost
unintermittently from the north-east.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
THE SKIPPER GOES IN CHASE OF A STRANGE SAIL.
The violent atmospheric disturbances which accompanied the change of the
seasons lasted about a month, after which the weather became tolerably
settled once more, though rain now fell, more or less heavily, every
day. To work out of doors in the midst of pelting rain was by no means
pleasant, although there was no perceptible variation in the usual
temperature of the climate. Still there existed in the breasts of all
so strong a feeling of insecurity so long as the "fort" remained
unbuilt, that they determined rather to suffer the unpleasantness of
being daily drenched to the skin than to protract the uneasy feeling of
defencelessness which haunted them.
The building, then, was pushed forward with all possible expedition,
and, thanks to the indefatigable energy with which they laboured, was so
far finished as to be habitable within a couple of months of its
commencement, though of course a great deal still remained to be done
before it could be regarded as absolutely secure.
The site for this house or fort--for when finished it really was strong
enough to merit the latter appellation--was finally fixed so as to
include within its limits a spring of pure fresh-water--an adjunct of
the utmost importance if it should ever fall to the lot of the occupants
to be placed in a state of siege, and it possessed the further advantage
of completely commanding both the land and water approaches to the
proposed ship-yard. It was built in the form of a hollow square,
enclosing a small court-yard (which the ladies determined to convert
into a garden at the earliest opportunity) with the spring in its
centre. One side of the house was set apart for the purpose of a
general living-room; the two contiguous sides were divided unequally--
the larger divisions forming respectively the doctor's and the
engineer's sleeping-rooms, whilst the smaller divisions served as
kitchen and larder; and the fourth side afforded ample sleeping
accommodation for the remainder of the party, with a store-room in one
angle of the building, and the magazine and armoury in the other. The
windows all looked outward, but were small, and strongly defended with
stout iron bars built into the masonry, and with massive wood shutters
inside, loop-holed for rifle firing. The doors giving access to the
rooms all opened upon the court-yard, and were as high and wide as they
could be made, so as to let in plenty of light and air. For still
further security there was no doorway whatever in the exterior face of
the building, egress and ingress being possible only by means of a
staircase in the court-yard leading up on to the flat roof, and thence
down on the outside by means of a light bamboo ladder which could be
hauled up on the roof in case of need. The roof, or roofs rather, had
only a very gentle slope or fall inward, just sufficient to allow of the
rain flowing off, and afforded a fighting platform at a height of about
fourteen feet from the ground, the defenders being sheltered by the
exterior walls, which were carried up some five feet higher and were
also loop-holed. It seemed at first sight a great waste of labour to
build so strong a place as this for what they hoped would be a
comparatively brief sojourn; but, as Gaunt pointed out to them, there
was no knowing precisely how long their stay on the island might be
protracted, and if they were going to construct a defence at all, it was
as well, whilst they were about it, to construct something which should
effectually serve its purpose. And after all, when the work came to be
undertaken, it was found that it took but little if any longer time than
would have been required to put up a wood house, and to surround it with
an effective palisade.
Another month saw the fort so far completed that Gaunt thought he might
now safely take in hand the saw-mill upon which he had set his mind; and
he and the skipper accordingly devoted themselves henceforward to that
undertaking, finishing it within a few days of the date when Henderson
reported that all was done at the fort which at that time was deemed
necessary. The doctor and his party now took to the woods armed with
their axes, and began the important task of selecting and felling the
timber for the proposed boat, the design for which Gaunt had been
diligently working upon whenever he could find a spare hour or two to
devote to the purpose. As ultimately worked out this design was for a
cutter, to be of twelve feet beam, forty feet long on the load-water
line, and of such a depth as would not only afford comfortable head-room
in the cabins, but also give the craft a good hold of the water and make
her very weatherly. These dimensions, it was considered, were
sufficient for perfect sea-worthiness, whilst the various timbers would
be of a scantling light enough to permit of their being handled and
placed in position with comparative ease with the limited power at their
command. The greatest care was exercised in the selection of the
timber, it being necessary to choose not only that which was thoroughly
sound, but also such as could without very much labour be conveyed to
the saw-mill. This latter necessity, or rather the actual labour of
conveying the timber to the mill, caused their progress to be somewhat
less rapid than they had anticipated, especially as Nicholls was now
busily engaged at the smithy preparing the bolts, fastenings, and other
iron work for the little craft; but, notwithstanding all, the work
advanced with fairly satisfactory rapidity. It had been decided that
the whole of the timber should be cut, sawn, and stacked in the ship-
yard before even the keel-blocks were laid down, so that it might become
at least partially seasoned before being worked into the hull, and this
was accomplished in rather less than a couple of months.
At length the day arrived when, everything being ready, the keel of the
vessel was to be laid down--a task which, the keel-piece being cut out
of one log, it took the little band an entire day to accomplish
satisfactorily. And it was on the evening of this particular day, or
rather during the ensuing night, that the little colony sustained a loss
which plunged its members into grief so deep that its shadow never
entirely left them until long after the termination of their sojourn
upon the island.
It happened thus. During the numerous passages of the raft to and fro
between the west bay and Fay Island a small reef had been discovered
some six miles north of the island, upon which reef, it had been further
discovered, a certain fish of peculiarly delicate and agreeable flavour
was to be caught between the hours of sunset and sunrise. So very
delicious had this particular species of fish been found, that it had
become quite a custom for one or more of the men to take the raft after
the day's work was over and go off to the reef for an hour or two's
fishing, thus combining business and pleasure in a most agreeable
manner. Captain Blyth especially always partook of the fish with quite
exceptional relish; and, it happening at this time that all hands had
been too busily occupied for any of them to go out for several days
past, the skipper thought he would celebrate so momentous an occasion as
the laying of the keel by a few hours' fishing upon the reef.
Accordingly, as the evening meal was approaching completion, he
announced his intention, at the same time inquiring if any of the others
felt disposed to join him. All, however, confessed themselves to be too
tired to find pleasure in anything short of a good night's rest; and the
skipper therefore departed alone, Henderson calling out after him as he
went:
"Don't go to sleep and fall overboard, captain; and keep a sharp eye
upon the weather. To my mind the wind seems inclined to drop, and if it
does it will probably shift. And I suppose you have noticed that heavy
cloud-bank working up there to the westward?"
"Ay, ay, I've noticed it," answered the skipper good-humouredly, but
slightly derisive at what he considered the presumption of a landsman in
thinking it necessary to caution _him_ about the weather. "Another
thunderstorm, I take it--they always work up against the wind; but I
shall be back again and safe in my bunk before it breaks. Good-night!"
So saying, Blyth, pipe in mouth, strolled down to the tiny cove in which
the punt was moored, cast off the painter, and paddled out to the raft,
which rode to a buoy anchored about fifty yards distant from the beach.
Arrived alongside the raft he made fast the punt's painter to the buoy,
loosed the raft's huge triangular sail, mast-headed the yard by means of
a small winch which Nicholls had fitted for the purpose, cast off his
moorings, and began to work down the stream seaward, the wind being
against him. He was not long in reaching the open water, and as he shot
out between the two headlands which guarded the mouth of the harbour he
noticed with satisfaction that the cloud-bank to which Henderson had
warningly directed his attention had already completely risen above the
horizon, and was slowly melting away under the moon's influence. True,
the atmosphere was somewhat hazy, and the breeze was less steady than
usual; but the general aspect of the sky was promising enough, and if a
change of weather was impending it would not, the skipper told himself,
occur for several hours yet, or without giving him a sufficient warning
to enable him to regain the island in good time.
Arrived on the reef--over which, by the way, there was plenty of water,
four fathoms being the least the party had ever found upon it--the
expectant sportsman dropped his grapnel, lowered the sail, and threw his
lines overboard. The sport, however, was not by any means good that
night, for it was fully half an hour before he got a bite; and the
interval which followed his first capture was so long that the skipper's
interest waned and his thoughts wandered off--as indeed they very often
did--to his ship; and he fell to wondering what had become of her,
whether the mutineers had actually gone the extreme length of carrying
into effect their piratical plans, whether Sibylla and Ned were still on
board, and, if so, how matters fared with them. He was full of
commiseration for the two young people, both having taken a strong hold
upon his warm and kindly heart, and he scarcely knew which to pity
most--whether Sibylla, cruelly and perhaps permanently cut off from all
intercourse with her own sex and constantly in association with a band
of lawless men; or Ned, likewise a prisoner, with all his life's
prospects blighted, and in addition to this the never-ceasing care,
anxiety, and watchfulness which he must endure on Sibylla's account.
Most people would have been disposed to say at once and unhesitatingly
that the girl's lot was infinitely the worse of the two. But the
skipper did not; he understood pretty well, or thought he did, the
position of affairs on board the _Flying Cloud_; and he knew to an
absolute certainty that so long as Ned had life and strength to protect
her Sibylla was reasonably secure. But Ned, he repeated to himself,
would always have her safety and well-being upon his mind in addition to
his other cares and anxieties. It was a miserable plight for both of
them, he mused, and he didn't see how they were to get out of it--
unless, indeed, they could manage to steal away in a boat and give the
ship the slip some fine dark night. And what would become of them then?
he asked himself. What chance of ultimate escape would they have? He
knew Ned well enough to feel assured he would never attempt so extreme a
step without first making the fullest possible provision for the safety
of his companion and himself; but when all was done, what prospect would
they have of being picked up in those lonely seas? He pictured them to
himself drifting helplessly hither and thither, exposed to the scorching
rays of the sun all day and the pelting rain at night; their provisions
consumed, their water-breaker empty, and hope slowly giving way to
despair as day and night succeeded each other, with no friendly sail to
cheer their failing sight and drive away the horrible visions which
haunt those who are perishing of hunger and thirst. He saw Ned's
stalwart form grow gaunt and lean, and Sibylla's rounded outlines
sharpen and waste away under the fierce fires of hunger; and his soul
sickened within him as their moans of anguish smote upon his ear. And
at last he heard Sibylla, in her agony and despair, entreat Ned to take
away the life which had become a burden to her. And he saw and heard
too how Ned, his speech thick and inarticulate with torturing thirst,
first tried unavailingly to soothe and comfort and encourage the
suffering girl; and how at last, in sheer pity for her and mad
desperation at their helpless state, the lad drew forth his knife and
stealthily tested the keenness of its edge and point. And as he
watched, with feverish interest yet unspeakable anxiety and horror, he
saw that the long-protracted suffering of himself and his companion had
at last proved too much for the poor lad and that his brain was giving
way; for look! the baleful light of madness gleams in his bloodshot
eyes! Madness gives new strength to his nerveless limbs as he rises and
bends over his companion. As he slowly uplifts his arm its shrunken
muscles swell beneath the skin as though they would burst it, his talon-
like fingers close with a grip of steel round the haft of the upraised
knife, Sibylla closes her eyes in patient expectancy of the stroke, the
blade quivers and flashes in the sunlight, and Captain Blyth, with a cry
of horror, starts forward--to awake at the sound of his own voice and to
find himself at the edge of the raft, in the very act of leaping into
the jaws of a shark which is eyeing him hungrily from the water
alongside! He luckily checks his spring in time. To seize the boat-
hook and strike savagely at the waiting shark with its point follows as
a matter of course; and then the skipper piously returns thanks to God
not only for his escape, but also that the events he has just been
witnessing are nothing more substantial than an ugly dream.
Blyth's next act is to haul in the lines which have dropped from his
nerveless hands during sleep, and which would unquestionably have been
lost had he not taken the precaution to make them fast; and he finds to
his chagrin that not only the bait but also the hooks have been carried
off. He therefore neatly coils up his fishing-tackle preparatory to
shaping a course for home; for the moon is on the very verge of the
western horizon, and he knows therefore that it is past midnight.
Moreover, though the breeze is rather fresher than it was and the
horizon is clear, there is a murkiness in the atmosphere overhead which
portends a change of weather; and as he looks knowingly about him he
gives audible expression to his opinion that there will be but little
work done in the ship-yard on the morrow.